Read Online Invincible (A Centennial City Novel) by Fionn Jameson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Fionn Jameson
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flashlight.”
Even in the darkness, I saw his eyes widen. “Are you insane? Aren’t you some kind of mad crazy killer? Isn’t that the worst thing you need?”
I didn’t really feel like explaining to him. “Just…just get me a flashlight, please.”
He muttered under his breath, but he left the room, presumably in pursuit of a sort of light that would stop cold sweat from plastering my thin cotton shirt to my back.
I really hated the darkness.
I grabbed my sheathed sword and slowly edged out of the room. It was incredibly stupid to unsheathe it, because at this point, I would slash at shadows and Michael just might be one of them. He was right about one thing and wrong about another: I was a killer, but I didn’t kill people for the fun of it.
There was a purpose and it was in this purpose I managed to find a core of comfort, even within the darkness that made my vision swim.
Even to my own ears, my breathing was hoarse, much too fast to be healthy.
Which way had Michael gone? I probably should’ve asked him, but in a ten-thousand square foot townhouse bathed in shadows and faint moonlight, I guess it really didn’t matter where he was.
Chances are, I wasn’t going to find him.
Silence flowed and ebbed around me as I checked Jason’s room.
The knob didn’t move under my hand and I took that was a good sign. For now.
It would be hard to hear anything, considering how thickly carpeted the floors were and I held the hwan-geom at my side, the hilt slippery in my hands.
When this was done and I survived, I was going to ask Jason to drop me off at a cemetery and leave me there all night. If I couldn’t face my fears, then I was worthless.
I thought I heard sounds, soft, scrabbling sounds, although that could have just been Michael going through drawers trying to find a damned flashlight.
Why didn’t this house have a damn generator? Jason seemed rich enough.
Taking the stairs seemed to take forever and a day, but without even an artificial source of light, I was worse than a mouse in front of a starved cat. I was lucky it was a full moon.
It occurred to me halfway down the stairs that I could’ve simply called the police.
Then I remembered the phone lines were probably down.
Still, it didn’t hurt to help.
At the base of the stairs, there was a phone and I picked up the receiver quietly.
The line was dead.
I hoped it was just a power outage, just an electric error until my eyes went down the phone line and saw it snipped neatly in half.
That was the first clue.
The second clue was Michael hanging from the chandelier.
His body swayed lazily, tongue hanging out, eyes open wide and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the very professional looking leather strap around his muscular neck.
How the hell did he get up there?
How strong would someone have to be to put him up there?
A vampire.
A bead of sweat rolled down my face despite the cold air wafting in through a slightly open French window leading out to the back yard and sleeping roses.
I had no way of knowing exactly when he died, but there was always something to estimate.
A tug on his shoes told me he couldn’t have been dead more than ten minutes.
Who has the key?
Just myself and Reiko.
I managed to get Michael off the chandelier, although he fell most of the way. It was a good thing he was already dead; the fall alone would’ve broken several crucial bones.
A quick check through his pockets gave me nothing. No wallet, no cell phone, nothing.
But more importantly, no keys.
If I had been the one ordered to exterminate a newly turned vampire, and given the choice between a tired vampire and a human driver with little developed self-defense skills, guess which one I would gun for.
Not Reiko.
A scream shattered the night, ringing through the house, echoing in my ears.
Jason.
Shit.
All reasons for stealth thrown out the window, I bounded up the stairs, hwan-geom unsheathed, heart and pulse racing.
It was always like this
Even in the darkness, I saw his eyes widen. “Are you insane? Aren’t you some kind of mad crazy killer? Isn’t that the worst thing you need?”
I didn’t really feel like explaining to him. “Just…just get me a flashlight, please.”
He muttered under his breath, but he left the room, presumably in pursuit of a sort of light that would stop cold sweat from plastering my thin cotton shirt to my back.
I really hated the darkness.
I grabbed my sheathed sword and slowly edged out of the room. It was incredibly stupid to unsheathe it, because at this point, I would slash at shadows and Michael just might be one of them. He was right about one thing and wrong about another: I was a killer, but I didn’t kill people for the fun of it.
There was a purpose and it was in this purpose I managed to find a core of comfort, even within the darkness that made my vision swim.
Even to my own ears, my breathing was hoarse, much too fast to be healthy.
Which way had Michael gone? I probably should’ve asked him, but in a ten-thousand square foot townhouse bathed in shadows and faint moonlight, I guess it really didn’t matter where he was.
Chances are, I wasn’t going to find him.
Silence flowed and ebbed around me as I checked Jason’s room.
The knob didn’t move under my hand and I took that was a good sign. For now.
It would be hard to hear anything, considering how thickly carpeted the floors were and I held the hwan-geom at my side, the hilt slippery in my hands.
When this was done and I survived, I was going to ask Jason to drop me off at a cemetery and leave me there all night. If I couldn’t face my fears, then I was worthless.
I thought I heard sounds, soft, scrabbling sounds, although that could have just been Michael going through drawers trying to find a damned flashlight.
Why didn’t this house have a damn generator? Jason seemed rich enough.
Taking the stairs seemed to take forever and a day, but without even an artificial source of light, I was worse than a mouse in front of a starved cat. I was lucky it was a full moon.
It occurred to me halfway down the stairs that I could’ve simply called the police.
Then I remembered the phone lines were probably down.
Still, it didn’t hurt to help.
At the base of the stairs, there was a phone and I picked up the receiver quietly.
The line was dead.
I hoped it was just a power outage, just an electric error until my eyes went down the phone line and saw it snipped neatly in half.
That was the first clue.
The second clue was Michael hanging from the chandelier.
His body swayed lazily, tongue hanging out, eyes open wide and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the very professional looking leather strap around his muscular neck.
How the hell did he get up there?
How strong would someone have to be to put him up there?
A vampire.
A bead of sweat rolled down my face despite the cold air wafting in through a slightly open French window leading out to the back yard and sleeping roses.
I had no way of knowing exactly when he died, but there was always something to estimate.
A tug on his shoes told me he couldn’t have been dead more than ten minutes.
Who has the key?
Just myself and Reiko.
I managed to get Michael off the chandelier, although he fell most of the way. It was a good thing he was already dead; the fall alone would’ve broken several crucial bones.
A quick check through his pockets gave me nothing. No wallet, no cell phone, nothing.
But more importantly, no keys.
If I had been the one ordered to exterminate a newly turned vampire, and given the choice between a tired vampire and a human driver with little developed self-defense skills, guess which one I would gun for.
Not Reiko.
A scream shattered the night, ringing through the house, echoing in my ears.
Jason.
Shit.
All reasons for stealth thrown out the window, I bounded up the stairs, hwan-geom unsheathed, heart and pulse racing.
It was always like this
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